English Doctor, Italian Bride

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘I know.’ He actually looked her in the eye and for the first time Bonita didn’t look away. ‘You were going to end it, weren’t you? I mean, if I hadn’t.’

  ‘I think so.’ She gave a confused shake of her head. ‘I just need to deal with losing Dad…’

  ‘I understand that,’ Bill said. ‘I want you to know that, not once, while we were together…’ He swallowed hard. ‘Bonita, I was devastated when we broke up, but it was the right thing to do, and I know now because—’

  ‘Bill…’ She put her hand up to stop him. She was not up to hearing about her faults, to hearing how she’d thrown away a good relationship in this strange, unwitting quest for the glimpse of perfection she’d had all those years ago. ‘I don’t want to talk about it now.’

  ‘We have to.’

  ‘Have to?’ Bonita frowned.

  ‘I need to tell you something before someone else does.’ Bill, Bill, who had looked her in the eye and demanded the truth a couple of months ago, couldn’t look at her now. ‘Did Hugh speak to you?’

  ‘Hugh?’

  ‘When he came to Emily’s…’ Bill swallowed uncomfortably ‘He saw me there when he came to collect your things.’

  Funny, that when there was so much going on in your own life, when you were struggling to stay afloat, you just assumed the world was on pause, waiting patiently till you were ready to resume living. But standing there, Bonita realised the world carried right on turning, people carried on laughing and living and falling in love—even as your own world eroded.

  ‘Hugh didn’t say anything,’ Bonita said—embarrassed all of a sudden that Hugh had known first.

  That Hugh must now feel sorry for her.

  ‘I thought he was going to hit me,’ Bill admitted. ‘He didn’t. He just stomped about, grabbing your things.’

  ‘Hugh got my things!’

  ‘Emily meant to pack. Like I said, we never planned…’ So Hugh had walked in the morning after a night of passion. Cold shivers of embarrassment swept down her spine. Ridiculous that it should matter, given the circumstances—except that it did. The thought of Hugh fumbling around in her knickers drawer, through her toiletries, had Bonita breaking out in a cold sweat. She added a quick prayer of thanks that she didn’t keep a diary.

  OK, there was one photo of him on her bedside table—it had been put up after she’d broken up with Bill—but that same photo had been taken by her and included her parents and brothers and was, because she was paranoid that anyone might guess, nestled in without about five other family photos. Even if Hugh had seen it, he wouldn’t have given it a thought.

  Still, she had more important things to worry about right now, walking slowly alongside Bill as she tried to process what he was telling her.

  Trying to fathom how she felt.

  ‘I’ve been working up to tell you—I just didn’t know how. Emily’s the same.’

  ‘I thought I hadn’t seen her much since my accident.’ Bonita frowned, one question vital all of a sudden. ‘When?’ Bonita swallowed. ‘When did you two start seeing each other?’

  ‘Then,’ Bill said. ‘The day you had your accident.’ Which had been a good month after they had broken up, but she couldn’t keep the dash of bitterness and doubt out of her voice when she spoke next.

  ‘Very convenient, Bill—you mean, you were caught, then!’

  ‘I’m telling the truth, Bonita…’ And he did look at her then and she knew he wasn’t lying—knew because Bill was a good guy, and Emily was actually a really nice girl—even if, as Bonita had privately thought on occasion, she wasn’t exactly famed for the strength of her knicker elastic. ‘It was the last thing I expected to happen. In fact, it would be easier all around if it hadn’t happened. I’ve already got everyone at work out to get me, calling me a louse for leaving you. Wait till they find out this. I went round that Saturday to get the last of my things and Emily told me what had happened with your arm. I had a beer…Emily was going on, saying she couldn’t believe we’d broken up. I didn’t tell her about Hugh, of course.’ He’d registered Bonita’s anxious eyes. ‘I still haven’t. I never would. What I did say, though, was that you weren’t happy, that it wasn’t that straightforward, that you’d just gone off me. And the next thing she was trying to boost my ego a bit, and…’

  ‘One thing led to another?’ Bonita offered.

  ‘There was nothing, nothing between us till then. I really need you to know that.’ Bill voice was urgent and as much as he really needed her to know that, she, Bonita realised, needed to know it too. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you, what with your dad and everything…I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Bill.’

  ‘Try telling that to everyone when it gets out.’

  ‘I will tell them.’ Bonita looked at him squarely. ‘I’m pleased, pleased for both of you, I can honestly say that. Though it feels a bit…’ Bonita fumbled for the right word. ‘It’s going to take a bit of time to get my head around it, I suppose.’ An appalling thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘I can’t imagine moving back.’

  ‘I haven’t moved in.’ Bill gave a half-smile. ‘Please, don’t move out on my account. I don’t even like going there particularly. It just seems wrong.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t.’

  And it wasn’t, Bonita realised as they walked slowly back to the house. You don’t choose who you fall in love with—if only life were that kind, she thought pensively. She hadn’t chosen to still have feelings for Hugh, just as Bill hadn’t chosen to develop feelings for Emily.

  Life and love didn’t always come with a guaranteed set of choices.

  ‘Hugh’s here.’ Bill nodded at the silver car that had appeared in their driveway since they’d gone on their walk.

  ‘Hugh’s always here…’ Bonita gave a small half-smile. ‘He’s either riding Ramone at the crack of dawn or chatting to Dad, he’s like a son to them.’

  ‘But not like a brother to you…’ Bill gave her a sympathetic smile.

  ‘I saw him less when I was working with him. Still…’ Bonita faltered for a second. ‘I guess everyone’s coming around more these days.’

  ‘How is he doing?’

  ‘Great! Well, according to Mum he is…’ Tears pricked her eyes. ‘The weight’s just falling off him, though. The palliative care nurse wants to put down an NG tube and give him supplementary feeds, but he’s refusing. Still, he has actually got a bit of a second wind, organising the barbeque and everything.’

  ‘It’s on Saturday, isn’t it?’ Bill checked. ‘It will be weird, not being here for it. How are things with you and your mum?’

  ‘The same.’ Bonita shrugged. ‘Everything I do at the moment seems to confirm Hugh’s opinion of me: that I’m just the immature little Azetti girl.’

  ‘You immature?’ Bill frowned. ‘That doesn’t sound like you.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion.’ Bonita gave a tight smile. ‘Things are a bit strained at home at the moment. You know what Mum and Dad are like—mature to them means settled down and married. Not walking through the vines with my ex and hearing he’s on with my friend…’

  She smiled at his wince.

  ‘Joking.’ She gave a wince of her own. ‘Sort of. They seem to think my life is chaotic, whereas actually it’s boringly normal. Hugh just seems to catch every row I have with Mum at the moment. Living back here, I feel like I’m teenager again.’

  ‘Well you’re not.’

  ‘I know! If I’d followed their rules we’d either be stuck together and as miserable as all hell or heading for divorce courts now. I’ll stick with my game plan.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I haven’t got one,’ Bonita admitted with a smile. ‘I’m happy with my life and seeing where it will take me…’ Her smile widened a touch. ‘I always hated that your name was Bill. Bill and Bonita—it sounded like a nursery rhyme, there were just too many Bs for it to be perfect!’

  ‘It nearly was.’

  �
��Thank you.’ Bonita said. ‘For having the guts to come over. I know how hard it would have been.’

  ‘When will you be back at work?’

  ‘A couple of weeks.’ Bonita shrugged. ‘Just light duties. Really, I don’t know what I’m going to do about the flat. I’m going to have to see how things go with Dad for now. I don’t know if I’m helping Mum much, but I might stay on a bit. I just don’t know. I’ll give Emily a ring soon—but tell her I’m OK.’

  It was right to accept a hug goodbye.

  Right because when he held her in his arms and it couldn’t even vaguely be described as awkward, it confirmed what they both knew.

  There was just nothing more than friendship there.

  ‘He’s got a nerve,’ Carmel snapped as Bonita walked back into the house.

  ‘Leave it, Mum.’

  ‘Walking up to the front door, as bold as brass, after all he put you through…’

  ‘Bill’s a nice guy.’ And seeing Hugh playing cards with her dad, it incensed her when she saw the slight rise of his eyebrow as she defended Bill to her mother. That Hugh thought he knew better than her what was going on had Bonita boiling.

  ‘Nice!’ Carmel snorted. ‘I can think of a lot of other words for him…’ And as she opened her mouth to deliver a few, to ram home yet another point, it was all too much for Bonita. The tears, the emotion that her mother hated so much all bubbled to the surface as Bonita promptly burst into tears, loud angry tears that disturbed the quiet afternoon her mother had striven to create—raw, emotion-charged tears that in the Azetti house just mustn’t happen.

  ‘Look what he’s done,’ Carmel shouted. ‘Look at how he’s upset you.’

  ‘If he comes here again…’ Luigi attempted, coughing before he continued, ‘he’ll have me to deal with!’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Bonita sobbed. ‘None of you!’ she added angrily in Hugh’s direction, and then fled to her room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SHE wasn’t sure which of the lesser of two evils it would be as someone knocked on her bedroom door an hour or so later—whether it would be Hugh or her mother. She knew it would be one of them, telling her to hold it together, that her dad didn’t need the stress right now. And all Bonita knew was that she didn’t need to be made to feel young and stupid merely for feeling.

  This time in her life hurt, hurt so much she could barely breathe—living here, being here, watching her dad fading away and pretending not to notice, losing her relationship with Bill to a man who would never love her, then hearing people blame Bill for something that truly wasn’t his fault. It was almost more than she could bear.

  ‘Hey!’ It was Hugh. Her arm was over her eyes but she could hear him plonking down a mug of tea and standing over the bed where she lay. It didn’t even merit comment this time that he’d been allowed into her bedroom. He wasn’t a man or even a doctor today—more a big brother, coming in to give her a lecture. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Great!’ Her covered eyes and swollen lips just added to the irony of her surly word. ‘I suppose you’ve been sent to talk some sense into me.’

  ‘Your mother was going to—then your father thought that he should…’ Hugh peeled her arm away and smiled at her tear-streaked face. ‘They were even talking about ringing Paul to come home from the hospital.’

  ‘Well, they’d have a job getting him. He hasn’t been round for a week.’

  ‘He doesn’t know how to deal with your dad. It upsets him.’

  ‘Poor Paul!’ Bonita gave a twisted smile.

  ‘And with the other two out at Bendigo, I know a lot of this is landing on you.’

  ‘And you!’ Bonita said. She had not realized this before: the regular visits despite Hugh’s schedule; his patience with her father as he became harder and harder to understand. Luigi’s mind had started wandering in mid-conversation, and Hugh had sat through endless rounds of reminiscing.

  ‘You’re living with it,’ he said gently.

  ‘And I really don’t think I can,’ Bonita admitted. ‘You know we never really got on. I love them and everything, but I left home at eighteen because of the way they were. Now I’m back, they’re carrying on as if I’m still fourteen.’

  ‘It’s just their way—and your mum’s just trying to be supportive about Bill.’

  ‘By being horrible about him! How does that help? And now she’ll be angry with me for crying.’

  ‘She just wants things kept as calm as possible.’

  ‘I don’t need a lecture, Hugh. I really don’t need to be told how sick my dad is, how they don’t need the drama, because, believe it or not, I’m not being childish—all I’m being is me…’ She bit back a scream almost, then covered her eyes again as he looked on. ‘I’m fed up with being told it’s because I’m the youngest or because I’m immature when I’m actually being more mature than I’ve ever been in my life. I’m hurting and I’m not allowed to show it and it doesn’t help when they speak like that about Bill.’

  ‘OK…’ He took a deep breath. ‘I know you think the world of Bill, I know it hurt like hell when you broke up, and you’re probably hoping that he’ll change his mind, but you do need to move forward, Bonny.’ She could hear the patronising tone in his voice, the grownup who knew better. Mr—or rather Dr—Mature, who knew that poor little Bonny’s boyfriend was cheating on her, that poor blind Bonny didn’t have a clue, when actually Bonita Azetti had handled today’s turn of events with more dignity than most women could have mustered. ‘There’s something you ought to know…’ Hugh said gently, and ever the doctor he gave a grim smile, as if he was about to deliver a fatal diagnosis, but Bonita beat him to it.

  ‘I know about Bill and Emily.’

  ‘You know?’ He couldn’t disguise the shock in his voice.

  ‘And, for your information, I’m fine with it.’ She gave a small shake of her head. ‘Well, not fine, but I’m OK with it. Emily’s not the reason we broke up.’

  ‘What was?’

  ‘Does there have to be a reason, Hugh?’ Pulling down her arm again, he could see her eyes well with fresh tears. ‘We weren’t married, we weren’t engaged, we didn’t have kids—why does everyone keep waiting for me to come up with this neatly defined reason as to why we broke up? It wasn’t working.’

  ‘But even so…’

  ‘Why did you call off your engagement?’ Bonita challenged. ‘Or rather engagements? You’ve had more girlfriends than I can remember, Paul too and Ricky and Marco in their time, yet not once do I remember any of you being held to account for them not working.’

  She could feel panic building, a horrible, horrible panic because all she was doing was hurting. All of it was unfair, and every road out was a dead end because there was nowhere to go to escape—she didn’t even have the flat to fall back on, thanks to bloody Bill and Emily.

  ‘I know this is hard for you.’ He sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘This is all hard for you…’

  ‘I want to help Mum.’

  ‘You are just by being here.’

  ‘I make her so cross.’

  ‘Bonny…Bonny,’ he repeated, waiting till her eyes met his to convey the importance of his words. ‘She adores you—you scare her…’

  ‘Scare her!’ Of all the ridiculous things to say! ‘How could I possibly scare her?’

  ‘You say what she feels.’ Hugh’s explanation just added to her confusion. ‘You open so many lids, and she walks frantically behind, closing them.’

  ‘No…’ He didn’t understand. Cross, Bonita shook her head on the pillow, because Hugh was talking nonsense. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘But I do.’

  ‘Maybe I should just go back to the flat,’ Bonita said frantically.

  ‘You can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ Her chocolate-brown eyes snapped wide open. ‘If it makes Bill and Emily feel awkward, tough! They should have thought of that. They can stay at Bill’s if they can’t stand to be a
round me!’

  ‘You can’t,’ Hugh said again.

  ‘Well, I can’t stay here. I went out for the first time in weeks last night. The first time,’ Bonita emphasized. ‘Just with the girls, just to hear a band. I was home by ten-thirty and she’s still furious with me.’

  ‘Then don’t make waves.’

  ‘Are you suggesting I don’t go out?’ Bonita said.

  She waited for him to laugh, to say, ‘Of course not!’ Instead, she was left stunned and disbelieving when Hugh gave a tight shrug.

  ‘Maybe you could meet your friends for lunch instead?’

  ‘I do not believe this!’ She sat up so hard it hurt her shoulder. ‘You! You of all people! Would you say this to Paul?’ she demanded to his grim face. ‘No wonder people say I’m immature—I’m not allowed to grow up.’

  ‘Bonny—’

  ‘Thanks for the pep talk.’ She sneered as he hopelessly closed his eyes. ‘Oh, sorry to disappoint you. Were you expecting to swagger downstairs and say that everything’s fine now—that I’ll be down to mop the floor in ten minutes and that I’ll only see my friends during the days—?’

  ‘Bonny, please!’

  ‘It really would be better for everyone if I move out,’ Bonita said, only more calmly now. ‘Dad doesn’t need the tension right now and Mum and I aren’t getting on—it will be easier on everyone!’

  ‘None of this is easy,’ Hugh said, grabbing her wrist as she made to get off the bed. ‘Just listen to me for a minute, Bonny.’

  ‘I’ve heard enough.’

  ‘Please.’ There was a slightly imperative note to his voice that stilled her—had her change her mind in mid-flight off the bed. Hugh’s free hand dragged through his hair as he blew out a long breath.

  For Hugh, he felt as if he were about to skydive for the first time!

  He was standing on the line between getting involved and staying the hell out.

  He’d known Bonny since she’d been eleven—had buttoned his lip on so many occasions, but he could feel things coming undone now.